Reflections
by Sandra Evans
Summary: LSF Revan's thoughts and emotion on being back on the Ebon Hawk after seven years


Disclaimer: I don't own, you don't sue. Get it? Got it? Good!

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Revan bit her lip as she walked through the halls of the Ebon Hawk, struggling to keep her emotions under control. She reached out with a small hand, and reverantly ran her fingers over the scarred surface of the durasteel plating. She remembered a time when the plates had been unblemished and shone with a luster, but they were now aged and scarred, as she was. It was strange how similar she was to this ship; the years had taken its toll on both of them, but they were still here…a living testament that it is possible to survive through hardship.

Revan swallowed down the lump in her throat as she passed the women's dormitory, pausing before the door. She didn't want to enter; didn't want to see the changes that she knew would be there. Six years ago, she had inhabited that room with a teenage twi'lek, a fiesty Cathar, and a seemingly calm and collected Jedi. The foursome hadn't always gotten along, but they had developed a close friendship that bordered on kinship. She could picture the room as it once was in her mind's eye, as though it had been hours since she had left the Hawk instead of years. Her bunk was relatively neat, the pink blankets somewhat straightened. Sketches of people she loved and had met only once were tacked on the walls above it. A double baded lightsaber sat upon the shelf, the romance data novels piled beside it portraying her deviation from the Jedi code. Directly across from her was Mission's bunk, covered in various colorful blankets that generally lay in a tangled heap at the end of the bed. The shelf above her bed was littered with souveniers from the planets thay had been to, and a purple and pink polka dotted gizka lamp that illuminated her corner of the room was evidence of the twi'lek's…unique…sense of style. Juhani's bunk was beside Mission's, the orange bedding pulled taught over the bed. The shelf above her was nearly empty, besides a few shiny trinkets that Mission and Revan had bought from her over the course of the journey, all arranged meticulously and in perfect order. Bastila's bunk was accross from Juhani's, and it was very plain. Standard white blankets covered the bunk, and no personal belongings littered the shelves. Revan blinked and shook her head to bring herslef back to the present, and stepped away from the room, deciding to remember it as it once was rather than for what it was now.

She sighed as she passed the cargo hold, the image of Canderous tinkering with the swoop bike immediatly coming to mind. The old war hero had been so predictable…so wonderful. He had become like a father to her, and she had spent many a happy hour here in this room with him. When she had been angry, he would spar with her here, and when she had needed a distraction, he would allow her to help him work on the swoop bike with him. Now, the Iridonian and his droids had taken residence in the room. The swoop bike was untouched, and the droids were perfected in its stead. Revan missed the smell that the cargo hold once borne; the scent of man and oil had been replaced by that of droid fluid.

She shook her head to clear her memories of a time long past, and to banish visions of a young Jedi and her dear friend covered in motor oil. She walked passed the medbay, and could feel that Jolee's presence still lingered there. She had to remind herself that there would be no cantankerous aged Jedi to bark out an order for her to come in and get treated; no old man to meddle in her love life. As she walked by, she could have sworn that she smelled one of the concotions that Jolee had cooked up while on Kashyyk, but of course, that was impossible. Her memory was making the ghosts of her past tangible. The presence behind the closed door was different now, and the emotions rolling from the small room reeked of love, fear, and desperation, rather than the steadfast caring of a weathered Jedi.

She tread past the men's dormitory, repressing the feelings that arose in her breast when she walked past. She knew every inch of how that room had once been; and while in stealth mode, she had learned more than she cared to know about its occupants. She could have sworn that she heard whiskey glasses clinking, Canderous' bark of laughter, Jolee's and Carth's indignation at losing, Zalbaar's rumbling growl of frustration. She smiled softly to herslef, remembering the wagers that some of them had made, and a blush arose to her cheeks as she recalled wlaking in on a game of Pazaak…Nar Shaddaa rules. But there was no laughter, no shouts, no Corellian whiskey behind the door, just the lone presence of a broken young man who had loved and lost.

She sighed softly and entered the common room, and here the memories washed over her as never before. She could recall all of the times that the crew had gathered here at each takeoff and landing, the card games played by both sexes, the early morning breakfasts and late night dinners…usually burned and charred as no one on board knew how to cook. They had played a game of truth or dare once in here, a game that was never repeated after Mission dared Bastila to walk in on Canderous while he was in the 'fresher. It was in this room that her crew learned that she was Revan and not the smuggler Aminta Jae, in this room where she had found acceptance for the monster that she had once been.

She wandered out of the common area and into the control room, a "friendly" wager that had been made by the crew members coming to mind. Mission, Zalbaar, Canderous, and Jolee had all made bets on how long it would take for her and Carth to get together. They had been watching the pair as she and Carth spoke through one of the cameras when Aminta sensed them, and broke had up their little betting party not two minutes later. She suppressed a chuckle as their surprised faces arose to greet her in her mind's eye.

She gave a rueful shake of her head at the memory, and paused before entering the cockpit, hanging her head as tears welled in her eyes. She quickly dashed them away, and entered slowly. Once she was in the room, she had to pinch herself to remind her that Carth was not sitting there in the pilot's chair; that his auburn head of hair would not pop up at any given moment, that he would turn around and greet her with a charming smile and a "Hey, Beautiful!" Revan walked farther into the room, and curled up in the co-pilot's chair, as she had countless times before when she had needed him to soothe her troubled spirits. She could piture him sitting there, a look of concern on his face that was quickly replaced by the familiar teasing glint in his eye. She put her head in her knees and took a shuddering breath, attempting to keep the tears at bay.

Metalic footsteps echoed in the room, and drew Revan's tear filled gaze upwards. Canderous stood there, decked in the armor of Mandalore, his helmet obscuring his face. She smiled softly at him, and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Take that off, will you? I like you better as a mercenary," she mumbled, joking half-heartedly.

He surprised her by doing just that. His had new wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and several strands of white streaked his grey hair, but other than that he was the same. She smiled up at him again, but this time it was broader, more genuine. "You haven't changed a bit," she told him with a slight sigh, before her attention was refocused back to the pilot's chair.

Canderous shook his head, and knelt down beside her. "It's strange, isn't it?" he asked with a rueful smile.

Revan raised her eyes to his again, and her eyebrows raised in question.

"This ship was home for nearly a year, we knew every nook and cranny of it, and it knew all of us better than we knew ourselves. Now, it's the same ship, but its not home anymore. Its filled with our memories, yes, but its someone else's."

Revan smiled in agreement. "You're right," she said soflty, her gaze drifting back to the pilot's chair. She suddenly shook her head and laughed, the sound warming Canderous heart. "When did you become a philoshopher? Just how often were you around Jolee?" she asked him with genuine good humor.

Canderous laughed gruffly in response. "I've had to watch over two young females in seven years. Something had to rub off on me."

Revan smiled and looked down at her hands again, before looking out the window. The stars were all that shone now, but she knew that in an hour's time, Telos would come into view. She looked back at the pilot's chair, remembering Carth's quick laugh and handsome face, praying that he hadn't changed as much as the rest of them had.

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I know, kind of sappy again, and not exactly original. It was just a Midnight rambling, something that I do when I can't sleep, and an idea suddenly pops into my head. As always, reviews are extremely appreciated! 


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